Like A Cherokee Rose
by IAmLithium
Summary: A story of danger, lust and violence in a time of terror. Darly x OC Male
1. Meeting Daryl and Being Alive

_**DISCLAIMER / Unfortunately, I do not own 'The Walking Dead' or any characters or locations involved. Even more unfortunately, I also do not own Norman Reedus. *Sigh*. Anyway, sorry the first Chapter is a bit short. I'm going to upload a new chapter every Saturday (if I can). Reviews and positive/constructive ******__criticism_ is always welcome.  


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Panting softly, Elliott sprinted through the forest, sweat glistening on his forehead. The male was 26, stuck in a world full of what some people called "Zombies" or "Walkers" but what Elliott called "Run for your life machines that shouldn't exist" Before the outbreak, Elliott had been a ordinary lad : interested in guns and cars; played football; was a Christian. But now all that had changed. He now found himself running away from what used to be his best mate. He'd lost all faith in God and somehow found himself clueless as to how to even load a gun.

Soon, he reached a highway with the zombie still on his tail. Elliott tripped over a jagged piece of metal, falling to the floor with a cry. He rolled, cowering backwards against a car as the walker loomed ever closer. His leg gushed out blood, blue eyes closing tight in preparation for the pain that was sure to follow. But, just as the walker should have reached him, there was a dull thud then silence.

The brown haired boy opened his eyes, the walker laid in front of him with a single arrow through it's skull. He blinked softly before stumbling to his feet, glancing around in an effort to find the source.

"Easy there, kid. Don't wanna make y'leg worse now, do we?" Came a southern drawl from behind him, as a strong arm slid around his waist to support him. Elliott turned his head, eyes locking with those of a ruggedly handsome man.

"Who are you?" The younger male whispered through chapped lips, eyes widening in surprise at the man – who he guessed now – must have been his saviour.

"M'Daryl. Daryl Dixon."


	2. Safe and Sound, For Now

_**DISCLAIMER / Unfortunately, I still do not own 'The Walking Dead' or any characters or locations involved. Even more unfortunately, I still also do not own Norman Reedus. *Sigh*Constructive criticism welcome, as before. **_

Soon enough, Elliott found himself in the back of an old RV, having his leg patched up by a friendly yet old looking man named Dale. As they spoke, Elliott listening to tales that the group had, Daryl remained ever present, not taking his eyes off of the younger boy.

"Where ya from, kid?" Daryl interrupted, just as the Dale was bandaging his leg.

"England." Elliott replied, in the almost musical voice which he had carried with him all of his life.

Daryl snickered, sitting down opposite him. "So you're a tourist? Fantastic."

Dale promptly glared at him, like a man who was silently telling his dog not to hump that woman's leg. As the old man left, Daryl spoke yet again. "Chose a hell of a time to take a vacation" His tone had changed from an almost teasing one to one of kindness and sympathy, eyes border lining with care.

"We came out here way before any of this happened. Nan was ill. She lived in Atlanta. She died just after the news of the infection broke out. After they shut the airports off." Elliott sighed softly. "Mum hung herself afterwards. Dad tried to save us by being a distraction for those things. My best mate he… he.. well he's gone" As he spoke of the deaths, his voice grew ever quieter, eyes growing sadder.

Before he could even blink, he found his body unwillingly nestled in an embrace by the redneck. "M'Sorry" The man muttered into his hair, the stench of cigarette smoke washing over him. "I lost m'brother in Atlanta. Damn bastard cut his own hand off. Think he's dead."

Automatically nuzzling his head into the man's neck in some sort of comforting gesture, Elliott whispered gently to him "I'm sorry too"

What seem like hours passed as they sat in the embrace, troubles momentarily forgotten before a blonde haired woman walked in and the two boys instantly jumped apart.

"So how comes you guys are hauled out here on the highway anyway? Surely it can't be safe?" Elliott asked, curiosity clear in his voice.

"Only stopped for supplies. Little gal Sophia wandered off. Went missin'. Rick's out there looking for her now. I would be too if I hadn't spotted you" He ruffled the boys brown hair before standing. "I'm out. Gonna go search. Stay 'ere. Andrea will look after ya"

The blonde and the redneck shared a look for a moment before the male left and the blonde sat down beside the younger boy. Eyelids dropping, Elliott only had a moment to take in his surroundings before he fell into a content sleep, safe in the knowledge that he was no longer alone – that there was hope.


	3. The Beginning and The End?

_**Disclaimer: I do not own TWD. I wish I did. Some characters would still be alive if I did *Cough* DaleandSophia *Cough* I mean, what? Who said that? Anyway. Sorry it's late. Had an exam. Reviews welcome. **_

Little did he know, things were about to get a whole lot stranger in Atlanta. Well, not as strange as zombies, but still rather strange. As it turns out, a man named T-Dog had also injured himself on the highway. Elliott, Dale and T-Dog all sat together, waiting tirelessly for their acquaintances to return from looking for Sophia.

"Yo kid?" The large man, T-Dog, suddenly said, breaking the silence. "What chu think of Daryl anyway?"

A rare blush coloured the younger males' cheeks. "W-Well I…. er…. He's cute, I guess….." He stumbled over his words, shocked by the sudden question.

Both of the older men burst out into fits of laughter, causing Elliott to send them a filthy glare. "Oh grow up!" He huffed before walking off into the forest, ignoring the males' cries of protest. No sooner had he entered the forest when night begun to fall. The young boy pulled his coat tighter around himself, turning on his flashlight with hesitation. The path back to the highway seemed to have been engulfed by the dark behind him, the trees seeming like hands reaching out, twisting to grab him and pull him into the endless abyss of pitch black light beside him.

"This is a mistake. This is such a mistake. Oh lordy." Elliott whispered to himself as a chilling wind raged around him. Tears sprung from his eyes as all his regrets overwhelmed him, like he was seeing his life flash before his eyes but skipping all the good parts. He fell to his knees right there and curled up on the floor, hugging his knees to his chest. His flashlight hit the ground and went off, causing the darkness to surround him.

As his body started to quiver, his eyes closed. Slow footsteps were approaching him, a gulp rising in his throat. This was it. He was a dead man walking for sure this time. Daryl wasn't there to save him. Nobody knew where he was.

One last memory overcame the boy as he lay, waiting for the impending doom. In his mind, a image of his sister flashed in front of him. _He remembered the day; her birthday, the day they lost everything but gained so much. Before that day, they'd never really been close as a family. Elliott was a good ten years older than his sister and had been practically disowned by his father for not being interested in NASCAR. His mother had almost constantly been ill and hadn't really been around much. But his little sister was still there, so pure and innocent in her childish ways. They used to play games together when he was younger but now he'd been too busy with schoolwork or his friends for her. That day however was different. It was her 8__th__ birthday so he'd agreed to play Cowboys and Indians with her and her little friends. Some of his own mates played with them too. The town had been strangely silent so they'd headed to the woods, their parents following to look after the little girls of the group. For half an hour, it had been fun and games until a bloodcurdling scream interrupted them. The boys had all instinctively grabbed the girls, but it was too late for that. The infection had reached their town; in front of them stood two undead girls. They had no cure. As the girls had leapt on them, Elliott had tried to reach his sister, Shannon, and only just managed to pull her out of the jaws of a small blonde girl. His father had shouted at them, what exactly he said was unclear now, but they had all run. They'd grabbed what little supplies they could, the father carrying Shannon. Their mother had been too weak and had thrown herself at the walkers to distract them while Elliott and his father got Shannon into the car. After driving for a mere ten minutes, Shannon had turned. She leapt forward, sinking her decaying teeth into their father's neck, pulling out his jaguar and starting to eat him alive. He'd screamed, crashing the car into a tree, a long shard of glass killing both him and Shannon instantly._

_As he crawled out from the wreckage, his eyes lay rest on his friend, Matt. All it took was a simple nod for both of them to launch into action, grabbing the sharpest thing they could find and sprinting off into the trees. Looking back at it, this had been a mistake. It'd been getting dark and there were plenty of places for zombies to lurk and tree roots for them to trip over. Eventually, they'd come to a small creek, not far from a highway. As Elliott turned to speak to Matt, a hand had grabbed his blonde friend and pulled him down, quickly eating out his heart before starting to run towards Elliott. Elliott had run towards the highway._

Eyes finally mustering the courage to snap open, he tilted his head up in fear at whatever sight would be lumbering towards him…


	4. Author Note

NOTE/ Sorry for my absence. I have suffered a family loss and am still in grieving; also I do have exams soon so my computer/writing time is very limited right now. I am currently working on a new, long chapter and I hope you can forgive me 3


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